


Shots on Broadway

by FloingMachines



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/F, It mostly follows canon, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Well sort of.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloingMachines/pseuds/FloingMachines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie is auditioning to be on Broadway, except the end of her day is intercepted by a mysterious woman who is followed by equally as mysterious shooters. This is mostly parallel to the canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shots on Broadway

            “I am Angie Martinelli.” She repeated that to herself as she looked in the mirror, pulling light brown hair over her ears. She _was_ in fact Angela Martinelli and she did know it. The problem was that no one else knew that. She repeated the phrase to herself again and cracked her knuckles. This audition, this interview, _whatever_ you wanted to call it was supposed to change that. By the time this was over, the entire world was supposed to know her name.

            They auditions were in an ancient Broadway theater that was well out of use. For one, it was too small to house any of the crowds that rushed in today. The seats were worn and well used, its walls almost crumbling to the touch. The stage was hardly fitted for electric lights; it was probably a fire hazard of epic proportions and ivy covered the outside walls to the point that it seemed almost like a garden than an old theater.

            The back dressing rooms weren’t the worst she’d seen, they were holding together (how well was a mystery). The multiple counters with mirrors and bright bulbs were in lines as other girls murmured lines to themselves under their breath and brushed their hair in a robotic matter, like it was only out of habit.

            Singing at the Automat had landed her here, her random outbursts of singing when the cook was on his break and left customers constantly asking her and other waitresses when the cook was back on break so they could hear her sing. Word spread fast, and soon the Automat was filling up at certain times each day until someone who knew someone else approached her and asked her to audition, handing her a card with a mysterious number.

            Now she was sitting backstage at an old theater, her heart jangling like too many bracelets and her fingertips shaking as the touched them to a mirror and then to her hair as she tucked it out of habit yet again.

            “I am Angie Martinelli.” She said to the reflection quietly. “I am Angie Martinelli and I can do this.”

            Someone walked over to her station and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She jumped nearly a mile and looked up as someone who looked like he was wearing a suit that cost more than her annual salary cleared his throat. “They’re ready for you.”

            She nodded wordlessly and stood up to follow him through the maze of disused props and costumes. Soon she was standing in the center of the stage as the man stumbled down the steps on the side.

            Bright lights were focused on her and a panel of four similar looking men sat in the front row with clipboards and fountain pens.

            “Ms. Martinelli?” One of them asked.

            “Yes?” Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.

            “You are here to audition, are you not?”

            “I am, sir.” Better try and make it extra respectful.

            “We are ready, then.”

            She took a deep breath and knotted her hands together behind her back. She looked at the seats and the empty theater and all she had to do was imagine those seats being filled. That was all it took as she let a loud note ring out.

 

            The audition went smoothly, the judges hadn’t totally hated her in the end. She was told that she would receive a call if she were to be getting the part in three days at the latest. Until then she was to hang in there.

            Angie held her back as she stepped out onto one of the streets that led into the building. She was ready to hail a taxi when a young woman in a red hat ran in front of her. The woman whipped around and looked at Angie, her lips as red as her hat.

            “Get down!” She yelled. Her quick command that she was British, her accent was light so she had obviously been living in the states for a while now.

            “What?”

            “I said _get down_!” The woman in the red hat was aggravated now.

            “ _Why_?” Angie asked just as she saw the other woman hit the ground just in time to avoid a bullet that had whizzed besides Angie’s head. She shrieked and got out of the way of the woman who was now gripping a handgun that was pointed only slightly to the side of the other girl’s head.

            “Out of my way!” She yelled and fired a clip in the mysterious shooter’s direction. Angie backpedalled behind her, oddly compelled to stay and watch what was happening.

            In the heat of the moment, a hand grabbed Angie and lifted her off the ground. She felt the cool barrel of the gun press into her temple. “What the hell?” She screamed as he held her back and her legs flailed uselessly.

            The woman in the red hat turned around and looked at her, in her totally helpless position. “You shoot, she dies.” The man said, his voice cloaked with a thick German accent.

            From her vantage point, Angie could see where the mystery bullets were coming from. There was a shooter on the roof of the theater who happened to be watching the confrontation.

            “Put her down.” The woman commanded.

            “Not until you put your gun down.”

            The woman gritted her teeth and glanced at Angie. They made eye contact and she nodded her head down. Angie tried to nod back as to say she understood what she needed to do, but the man’s free hand had since covered her mouth making it hard to move her head at all.

            Angie shot her leg back, aiming for the larger man’s crotch and her aim was not off. Her doubled over as she heels connected and dropped both Angie and his handgun. Angie picked it up and coughed a few times, trying to catch her breath.

            “Up there!” She said, gesturing towards the roof. “He’s reloading. Can we take him-.” Her sentence was cut short by the echo of the woman in the red hat putting a bullet through her former captor’s head.

            “The shooter is up there?” She asked.

            “I think so.”

            “My gun- it doesn’t have enough power to get up there. Does yours?”

            “I dunno, but I think I could take him out.”

            “What are you waiting for?” The other woman exclaimed. “Shoot him?”

            Angie scrambled onto the roof of a nearby-parked car and looked up. She could see the shooter resuming his position. She closed her eyes, pointed the gun and fired off what was left in it.

            “Is he dead?” She asked quietly, but was answered by the dull thud of his body rocking off the top of the building and hitting the sidewalk.

            “He is now.” The woman responded, nudging the body with her shoe. “And I suggest we leave.”

            Angie nodded furiously in agreement, the other woman taking her gun and stashing it in her bag along with hers. They turned the corner and began walking through the streets.

            “I should probably catch a cab back to the Griffith.” Angie said once they were three blocks away.

            “Fair enough.” The other woman said and stood out her hand as she turned to face Angie. “Peggy Carter.”

            Angie took her hand and shook it. “Angie Martinelli.”

            “Pleasure. I hope our paths cross again someday.” Peggy flashed a brief smile before turning and walking away from the stunned girl.

            “Yeah.” Angie whispered to herself and finally- hailed herself a cab.

 


	2. Cheap Schnapps and Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm stunned at the support of this and it really motivated me to try and update this. Enjoy!

            Peggy Carter had decided that Miriam Fry was in fact, was a bit nuts. She had pulled up in the taxi, holding only a couple small cardboard boxes and the first thing out of her mouth was “This is a proper establishment so there will be no foolishness tolerated. Is that understood, Miss Carter?”

            She smiled and bit her tongue and she smiled and responded with a nice “Yes Ma’am.” Then Fry had dragged her into her office that was on the first floor and had taken it upon herself to go over every rule of ‘this fine establishment’ and damn, were there a lot of them.

            “Miss Carter, there are no men allowed above the first floor.” Those were the first words out of her mouth once she sat down in the seat in her office. That was well enough; it wasn’t like she had time for a relationship. “There is no alcohol allowed, no food allowed above the first floor, no lights on past curfew, you are not allowed in after curfew, curfew is ten o’clock sharp...” The list droned on and on until she thought she would beat herself to death with a frying pan. “Miss Carter, are you listening?”

            “Of course.” She smiled weakly. Was it worth the trouble to be staying at the Griffith? Well, maybe it was. Rent was reasonable and the apartments came with furniture, furniture that she did not have and did not have the money to purchase.

            Miriam stood up and leaned out of her office. “Angie!” She called and Peggy furrowed her eyebrows together. She thought she had heard that name before, sometime last week maybe.

            When the girl strode into the office, Peggy realized why the name sounded so familiar.

            “English!” The nickname popped out of Angie’s mouth before she realized it and Fry looked properly bewildered as the two of them looked at each other and shared the same knowing look.

            “You know each other?” She asked and both of them nodded because standing in the office was the girl who had shot down a sniper for her two weeks prior.

            “Yeah, we’re friendly.” Angie said, smiling a little.

            “Ms. Martinelli, would you mind showing Ms. Carter to the vacancy next to your apartment?”

            “You’re moving in?”

            “Yes.” The answer was short and curt as she tried to keep it professional. Not like the two of them had taken out some street thugs at all.

            “Ms. Martinelli would you please show Ms. Carter upstairs?” She asked, a little more irritated this time.

            She stood up with her boxes and followed Angie out of the small office and into the stairwell. “Looks like we met again.” Angie said as they began walking up the stairs.

            “It appears so.”

            “No one knows that I saved you from a sniper. Fry just probably thinks that we met at the Automat or something or we know each other from something else. It’s not like you carry around a gun with you or anything or a giant sign that says ‘I’m a spy’.”

            “I work at the phone company.” Peggy replied, looking ahead.

            “Sure you do, and I’m a famous actor on Broadway.”

            Peggy sighed and rolled her eyes. There was something almost endearing about the girl, the way she casually talked, the way she waved her hands when she talked, and most certainly the almost perpetual wide smile.

            “I work at the phone company.” Peggy insisted, laughing.

            “Alright, English.” She said and she opened the door to the third floor and they walked down the carpeted hallway. “I live next door if you need anything, ever.” She winked.

            Peggy put her key in the door and unlocked it, dropping the boxes of possessions and clothes onto the floor and flopping backwards onto the bed. Angie Martinelli had most certainly just wedged her way into her life and she couldn’t stop smiling about it.

 

* * *

 

            She settled into a routine. She got up, went to work, and came home and if she was lucky she would see Angie in the hallway and they would exchange brief hellos and goodbyes as they passed that left Peggy grinning. Little did she know, their small conversations left Angie grinning just as wide.

            Except one day she wasn’t put on lunch duty by Thompson she realized that she did in fact need to eat lunch. When no one was really looking, she grabbed her coat and walked down a couple blocks and let herself into the local L&L Automat where she sat down and opened a menu.

            “This is new.” A voice said and her head whipped up to see Angie in a waitress’s outfit and holding a pad and a pen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Our owner’s too cheap to get tea, sorry to disappoint.”

            Peggy laughed. “That’s alright, I don’t really care for tea that much. I can feel the disappointment of everyone in the area.”

            Angie laughed with her, but louder. “So what can I get you?” She asked.

            “Coffee, if you don’t mind.”

            “What do you take in it? Milk? Cream? Sugar?”

            “Black’s good.”

            “I’ll bring that right back.” She said and sauntered off, winking.

            She felt her pinks blush pink and she ducked her head down. She didn’t understand why she was suddenly so affected by Angie. She had hardly given her any thought after the incident in the theater district, but now she felt herself gravitating towards the lively girl.

            Angie came back and sat across from her, sliding her the coffee and smiling. “Guess what I’ve got?” She asked, leaning forward a little.

            “I don’t know, what?”

            Angie smiled a little. “I just got two bottles of peach schnapps and half of a rhubarb pie.”

            She laughed. “And you plan to get that by Ms. Fry?”

            “Absolutely.”

            “Angie, I truly wish you the best of luck with that.”

            “Yeah, you better because I’m inviting you over tonight to see which one makes us sick first.”

            “Angie, I really shouldn’t…”

            “Yeah I shouldn’t be sneaking bad alcohol into the Griffith either, but look what I’m doing.”

            She couldn’t stop the smile that rose to her face as Angie laughed quietly. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

            Angie’s smile looked like it was going to stretch off of her face, but the then the cook in the back started to yell something neither of them understood and Angie stood up, smiling still, but more apologetically. “I’ll see you later English.”

            She left Peggy smiling in the booth, taking a drink out of the coffee mug.

 

           


	3. Midnight Drinks Session

            Everyone in the Griffith has their secrets; Angie in particular had a knack for finding clever ways to get in contraband. No one had a knack for getting men in _yet_ , but some sort of savior for everyone else was sure to come along sometime or another. She knew the rest of the girls secretly hoped Peggy would be that savior, but judging her demeanor Peggy was going to provide no such talent.

            Angie just flat out wasn’t interested in the idea of sneaking men in. It just didn’t really matter to her that much, kind of like a disinterest. Not kind of, it was most definitely a disinterest in the idea of sneaking in men.

            Not that it mattered that much, she was inviting Peggy Carter into her apartment tonight. All that mattered was the fact that she was good at getting cheap schnapps in and that something clicked with her that she couldn’t place. Small hellos and goodbyes and even random small talk at dinner left her flustered and about a hundred different shades of a hundred different colors all at the same time.

            The cook had dragged her away from the conversation with Peggy before she could continue it, but getting pulled back into the kitchen to scrape the griddle didn’t stop her from seeing the slight blush spread across Peggy’s cheeks. Her ears grew a little warmer and the cook said something in a language she couldn’t speak and forced her around to clean the utterly disgusting griddle.

            However everything was a moot point as she stabbed the cork in the top of the bottle of peach schnapps with a kitchen knife. The room was dark and it was late and she sat the open bottle on her bureau and unwrapped the pie that had stolen cutlery in the same packaging.

            Peggy Carter was coming over tonight.

            She couldn’t figure out why she had become so antsy about this. It wasn’t the first time she had invited one of the girls into her apartment, in fact plenty of people did it on a certain schedule because Angela Martinelli always, always, always had liquor.

            A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts and she was about to shove everything under the bed when the voice on the other side hissed “Angie!” And her face lit up. The accent was horribly British and it brought a stupid smile to her face.

            She hopped up and opened the door and Peggy slipped in silently, a small smile on her face. Most of her lipstick had faded away by this hour and her curls were becoming undone, but the beauty was not lost on her.

            “I’ve had a hell of a day.” She sighed, sinking to the floor. “So pass the schnapps.”

            Angie grinned and took the open bottle off the bureau and handed it to the British lady who took a long drink and passed it back to her. They leaned against the bed, not saying much until Angie worked up a little bit of nerve and asked about it.

            “So what happened in this hell of a day?” She asked, gesturing her hands a around a bit.

            “My coworkers are the most insensitive, arrogant, there isn’t even a word to describe it, I dunno something that makes sense when you want to grossly insult your fathead male coworkers.”

            “Do you want to talk about it?” Angie asked, taking another sip and passing it over.

            “I work at the phone company, there isn’t much to say about it.”

            “Yeah and once I get you drunk, maybe you’ll tell me where you actually work.”

            “Not a chance.”

 

* * *

 

            They developed yet another pattern. Every other day would go the same. They would hardly see each other and then one of them would show up with alcohol in the middle of the night without an invitation and they would drink. To new auditions, to crappy days, to just about anything that could be drunk to.

            Peggy never shared her secrets and while it was odd, Angie was determined to get them out of her, but never did. It wasn’t the worst pattern ever and they did learn quite a few things about each other in the process starting with:

 

Peggy Carter hated tea

She however hated many men more

And if the Captain America radio show was on, she would politely request that someone change it (she shared nothing about her loathing of the show further)

She could definitely hold her liquor

Lastly, _damn_ she looked good when she let herself become a little tipsy and let herself turn a light pink and her lips were smiling ever so slightly.

 

            Everything was fine. The pattern worked and after a few of these ‘midnight drinks sessions’ they began to talk to each other outside of their rooms. They kept each other on their toes, laughing occasionally and becoming fast friends.

            It was almost like incident that had brought them together hadn’t occurred. _Almost_. Peggy seemed to have forgotten the occasion altogether, but Angie surely hadn’t. After that altercation, there was _no way_ Peggy Carter worked for the phone company.

            So one night Angie made the firm decision: she was going to get Peggy Carter drunk or die trying.

 

 

 


	4. Troubled By a Shattered Bottle of Vodka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be my last chapter for a while. School is picking up, but I will return eventually. The chapter is a bit short (apologies) because of my limited time, but I hope you enjoy because I sure did!

            It takes more than cheap alcohol to get Peggy Carter drunk, but for some reason all it takes is a tipsy Angie Martinelli to make her grin like an idiot and have her cheeks flush a hot pink every time their hands touch.

            When she leaves that night she is all smiles and laughs and she feels like she’s filled with helium so it becomes a pattern. They drink too much, laugh about each other’s stupidity, and drink some more. Not to mention the innocent flirting that’s attached to being drunk, neither of the girls minds the attention.

            So Angie Martinelli sets out to get Peggy Carter drunk and Peggy knows the odds of that happening are slim, so she goes along with it.

            This had been going on for three weeks now and through midnight drinks sessions, they’ve become friends.

            The two of them have fallen into patterns, some of them innumerable, but important nonetheless.

            It’s after hours and Peggy Carter knocks on the door to the Automat and Angie rushes over and opens the door, smiling. Peggy walked in and pulled up one of the barstools as Angie slipped behind the counter and grabbed two slices of pie and two forks.

            “How was your day?” She asked as she set the plates down. “Still working at the phone company?”

            “Of course.” Peggy sighed, she knew that Angie couldn’t possibly think that she worked for a _phone company_ , but for everyone’s sake she insisted that she did. “And yours?”

            “Another botched audition.” Another bite of pie. “Some more people who refuse to tip their waitresses and the cook who yells in languages that neither of us understand.” 

            “It seems to be one of those days.”

            They both looked at each other and shared a knowing glance before breaking the connection again and looking down at their hands. It was another pattern of theirs, looking down and then back up at the same time, and only to look down again as they felt their faces heating up.

            “I did however, get something over than peach schnapps for tonight.” She said, smiling devilishly. “I’ve got some actually vodka, it’s a little cheap, but it’ll do and I’ve got some glasses this time to pour it in.”

            Peggy laughed in response and their eyes met. “I can hold my own Angie, there’s no way you’ll be able to get me drunk.”

            They both grinned wickedly at each other as Angie replied with a snarky “We’ll see about that.”

 

* * *

 

            A polite knock on Angie’s door made her shoot straight up and open the door. Instead of Peggy in her normal clothes from the day, she was in a loose fitting nightdress and her messy curls were pulled up above her head.

            “So are we going to drink or what?” Peggy asked as they took their normal seats on the floor. Angie pulled up the bottle and two glasses and poured the drink, handing one of the cups to Peggy.

            “Absolutely.”

            The vodka was strong and by the time they were through the first bottle, Peggy’s world was spinning and Angie’s was upside down as the seemingly random touches become more purposefully placed.

            The conversations were unintelligent and Peggy threw her head back as she laughed and felt Angie’s side pressing into hers and another glass handed to her. Angie was hiccupping profusely as she took another sip and Peggy nudged her shoulder away as the waitress’s body jumped with the spasms.

            “Are,” Hic. “You,” Hic. “Drunk?” Angie asked and then collapsing in a fit of giggles on Peggy’s lap as her loud laugh alternated between the laugh and the now prominent hiccups.

            “Not yet, but it looks like you are.” Peggy observed, absently playing with Angie’s hair.

            “Drunk enough to answer some questions?” Angie asked, pulling a couple strands of hair under her nose like a mustache as she asked it.

            “Not yet darling,” She answered and then froze.

            _Darling._

She had called Angie _darling_ and it had slipped out of her mouth and into the air before she could think about it and it felt like her thoughts were leaking out of her ears and onto the floor and into puddles around her and she opened her mouth to say something as a response when she was silenced.

            Angie kissed like a hurricane, pressing her back into the bed while she wrapped her arms around the Agent’s neck. Angie pulled back, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar, trying to explain things the way Peggy almost did a few seconds ago.

            “Angie, I…I have to go.” Peggy stammered as she tripped to her feet and slipped out of the room, leaving Angie alone with her thoughts as she tried to register the moment, but nothing came, nothing but emptiness.

            Next door, Peggy Carter sat onto her bed and ran her fingers lightly over her lips. That happened, _that_ happened and she knew if she let it go farther, Angie would be gone. She would watch someone else she had come to love die.

            So she settled on the fact that she couldn’t let this happen or get in her way and she crawled under the blankets and let darkness wash over her like a black tide, her dreams poisoned by flickers of Steve, Angie, and empty bottles of vodka.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the Agent Carter fandom has turned into a game of 'who can make the most readers insane'. Originally this chapter was supposed to be darker, but per seeing MaggieMerc's and QuickYoke's latest additions to their own little versions of hell, I decided we all needed a break-and a little angst.  
> Reminder that I'm going to be gone for a bit, so expects some radio silence!
> 
> If you are really desperate for updates I might be posting minor ones on my Tumblr (machinerisms.tumblr.com). If you think you can survive the small hiatus, just wait for the next chapter!
> 
> XOXOXO to all my readers
> 
> -Lara


	5. Really Ought To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update!  
> Get ready to be hit by a train of angst and insomniac Angie.

            “Ms. Martinelli, why are you doing laundry at this hour?” Miriam Fry asked, shaking her awake as she leaned against the machines with her eyes half closed. She had fallen into the habit of doing her laundry in the middle of the night to avoid Peggy, despite her body’s protests and the rest of the housing’s.

            “Huh?” Angie asked, startled and stood up and looked around rapidly. Her whites had finished their cycle and she rubbed her eyes as she looked down at Ms. Fry. “Oh, my whites were just finishing.” She explained lamely and opened up the door to the washing machine to follow up her explanation.

            “Ms. Martinelli, you are aware that curfew is at ten o’clock sharp?” Miriam asked, her voice filling with annoyance. The girl nodded in response and began to turn the dials on the dryers. “Then you are aware that you’re breaking this fine establishment’s rules, correct?”

            “Ma’am, I woke up and realized I needed to wash my whites.” They both looked at her wrinkled nightdress. “I really do need to get these done.”

            Ms. Fry sighed and looked around, checking in the linen closet and behind the machines before looking at Angie and giving her a disapproving frown. “There wouldn’t happen to be any _undesirable_ characters down there, would there?”

            Angie suppressed a dry laugh before the machine started rattling again. “No, ma’am.” She was tired and really didn’t want to answer any more of the old bat’s questions, but she kept plastering a smile on her face to mask how bitter she really was right now. _No there are no undesirables because I managed to fuck things up with the one specific person you consider undesirable who takes residence here_ , Angie thought as Ms. Fry cleared her throat and went to walk up the steps.

            “I’ve got my eye on you, Ms. Martinelli.” She said before stalking back up the stairs.

            The footsteps faded and Angie slumped against the cool metal and sat on the basement floor. It wasn’t a lie, she hadn’t washed her whites in weeks now and there was no time like the present.

            There was no clock in the basement so she had no way of knowing the actual time, but she guessed sometime around three in the morning. If the damn dryer would hurry up, maybe she could grab a couple hours of sleep before her alarm went off and she had to work at the Automat and think about auditions that always seemed to go poorly for the duration of her day.

            Recently, everything was going poorly for her. She wasn’t sure if it was just her or everyone who was having a bad day everyday. Due to the midnight washing she wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep and it had caused everything to decline. She was working extra hours at the Automat and it earned her more money to go to auditions, but it really wore on her. The last audition she had been to was the audition that was nearly a month ago when Peggy had saved her life and she had shot a sniper from the roof. She had never heard back from them (presumably according to Peggy they had been shot by the same people chasing her. It had been a dull joke as to why she hadn’t gotten the part.)

            Her throat stung and choked up a bit when she thought back to when she first met her, but she quickly swallowed it and blinked rapidly. She wasn’t going to deny that it was her fault that they were avoiding each other now; it was almost entirely her fault. She partially blamed Peggy for just calling her _darling_ that one time when alcohol streamed through her system in a failed attempt to get her drunk.

            Two things kept Angie awake now because of that night. The first thing was how Peggy felt against her and she habitually trailed her fingers across her lips, hoping to feel it again. The second thing was she swore that Peggy had kissed her back. She _swore_ that she felt pressure against her lips; she swore that she had felt Peggy kissing her back and that maybe for a moment she wanted to kiss her back, maybe for a moment.

            As much as those two moments kept her awake, they couldn’t match sleep deprivation. Her head slammed back into the cool, rattling washer and her eyes closed, much to her protests and sleep dragged her down like lead chain.

            When she woke up, Ms. Fry was shaking her awake at noon and Angie had to bite back a string of swears so profane the old lady would’ve collapsed. Her dream was fading, but she didn’t need the whole memory to remember that it was of Peggy Carter, the girl in a red hat who didn’t like tea.

* * *

           

            Her sheets were kicked off the bed and she was curled into a ball. To be perfectly honest, Peggy Carter knew she wasn’t faring much better. Two days earlier, Miriam had found Angie asleep in the laundry room in the basement and that made Peggy realize two things. First, Angie Martinelli obviously was being kept awake by something. Second, she realized exactly what she was being kept awake by.

            “Carter!” Agent Thompson yelled and she looked up from the paperwork that she was scrawling her signature over. “Anyone in there?” He strode over to her desk and stared down at her as she suppressed a scowl and smiled a little bit.

            “Yes, Agent Thompson?” She bit back a sarcastic ending to her reply.

            “Go take lunch orders.” He said and handed her a pad and pen. “You can handle that, can’t you?”

            “Agent Thompson, what do _you_ want for lunch?” She asked, her voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and venom.

            “A hoagie.” He said. “Italian, no oil and no vinegar. No cheese either. You can handle that, can’t you?”

            _I could kill you in a thousand very painful ways_ , Peggy through to her self as she smiled a little bit and wrote it down. “Of course I can.” She answered stiffly and he sauntered off.

            A half hour later, she was in the back of the cab and heading for the deli and holding the notepad with a death grip. She should be thinking about maybe what she’ll get for lunch that afternoon, but instead her mind wanders to the entrance to the Automat.

            Then as she looks at the door in her mind, there is no one there despite the fact that it’s lunchtime. In her daydream her mind wanders further in and pulls up a stool by the counter and sits, lacing her hands together and in the back is the one person she really ought to apologize to.

            “Hey.” She says and then the dream comes crashing down just as the Angie in her mind was just about to turn around.

            “Hey lady!” The driver said and she looked out the window and realized that she was at the deli. “You gettin’ out?” He asked.

            “Yeah, yeah of course.” She answered and handed him the cash and stepped out onto the sidewalk and only then did she think about what she was going to get for lunch.

            There were no mistakes in her order when she handed out the sandwiches and yet Thompson found something to bitch about and it was almost amusing this time.

            “I told you no vinegar.” He said and took a drink out of his brandy bottle.

            “And I told them that to.” She shrugged and walked out because she knew that no matter what she did, she was never going to be able to earn an ounce of respect from him. Not that it mattered; she would live a long and happy life without any respect from the likes of him.

            The day passed, she went back to the Griffith for dinner, which was punctuated by a speech to everyone from Miriam Fry.

            “Excuse me!” She said, looking over all of them. “I have an announcement to make!” A silent groan passed through the crowd and a couple people rolled their eyes. “Due to recent events, curfew will now be stricter. No one is to be outside their rooms after ten for _any_ reason. Consequences will follow those who do not listen.” She cleared her throat. “That is all.”

            They all knew the reason, Angie Martinelli falling asleep in the laundry room, but the only one who was remotely bothered by the reason was Peggy. She rested her forehead in her hands and wished that maybe Angie would come back for dinner for once so she could apologize to the one person she really ought to.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to track my SOB tag or check it out on my blog (machinerisms.tumblr.com) for updates.  
> XOXOXO,  
> Lara


	6. Mirror City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shortened this chapter. It was going to be too long and the next part is going to be better served as a separate chapter.

            It was a long Monday for everyone in New York City, or at least that’s what it seemed like. Life in the Griffith had dragged under the hot summer sun and it felt like the concrete was melting under their feet and that they would leave smeared footprints when they tried to walk to the corner store.

            The days bled into each other, making everyone irritable, especially it seemed the men at the SSR. Peggy Carter filed papers for what seemed like the thousandth time to only have another one of her coworkers angrily yelled ‘Carter!’ from down the hall and march her around to do another mundane chore.

            Little did she know that around the same time, impatient customers were yelling at Angie Martinelli for not putting enough ice in their drinks and starting the argument that ‘the eggs are powdered’ and other whatnot that made Angie want to blow her brains all over the linoleum floor.

            Their jobs were so different, but on that particular day they were never more alike as they bit back their ‘fuck yous’ to everyone who crossed them and their desire to slap everyone in the workplace upside the head.

            “Miss!” A man with bulging eyes and neck like a tree trunk yelled, raising his glass. “I need more water over here!”

            Angie rolled her eyes as she tried to make her away around with the two trays for the other customers who were already beginning to yell at her. “Just a minute, dear.” She said, trying to keep her voice sweet.

            She served the other tables and strode over to his, took the glass from his hands, stalked away, and filled it without and word and brought it back.

            “What’s got you in such a sour mood?” he asked as she picked up his plates.

            She shrugged. “It’s the weather, I guess. Everyone’s been like this lately.”

            “Well weather or not, word on the street is that you can sing. And act.”

            She shrugged again and bitterly remembered the commotion that was nearly two months ago now where Peggy Carter had in fact saved her life. _And it would all be going fine if Peggy Carter had been talking to her in the past two of those weeks_. Angie thought and shook her head. _It’s my fault anyways_. “I sing a little.”

            He handed her a card with a number in gold ink scrawled on it. “There’s an audition downtown and they’re looking for a girl like you for the lead. It would serve you well to call.” Before she had the chance to thank him, he put the amount due on the table and looked back at her. “Keep the change.”

            She looked at him, speechless and he walked out the door, putting on his hat in the process and soundlessly walked out the door. Only when it slammed shut, did she start grinning and turned the card that suddenly carried the same value as gold in her hand.

            One of the older women who frequented the Automat stood up and applauded. A few people followed and she felt a blush spread across her face as Judith walked over and hugged her. “You’re going to get your break!” She said, her voice high and excited.

            Finally, something was going right for Ms. Angie Martinelli.

 

* * *

 

            “Carter! What is your _problem_?” Thompson yelled, as he slammed more filed on her desk like he had someone to kill. “I told you to file the fucking papers!”

            She winced as he sprayed spit onto her desk and she sighed, biting back a burning remark. “You asked me to file the other ones,” another signature scrawled across the bottom of a paper. “So I did.”

            “Then I’m telling you to file these!” He demanded and she looked up at him for the first time that day, really looked at him.

            “Piss off.” She said and looked back down at the papers she was working on.

            “What did you say?” he demanded. He looked like he was on the verge of having a meltdown.

            “Go get someone else to file those. There’s plenty of people here, and I’m busy.”

            “Just do the fucking files, Carter.”

            “Go do them yourself!” She glared up at him, feeling the heat pulling at her anger.

            “Maybe I will!”

            “You are acting like a child, Agent Thompson!”

            The entire office was silent as the now standing Peggy Carter pressed her hands to the wood and the two of them stared at each other defiantly, the tension between them so thick someone could’ve cut it with a knife. The office was silent now as Agent Sousa crutched up behind Thompson and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

            Thompson spun around and Sousa avoided a well-aimed slap just in time. “Jack, just sit down for a bit. I’ll do the files.” He glanced at a still seething Peggy Carter and smiled apologetically. “Just go home for the day, nothing much is going to get done here.”

            Her smile was impossibly fake, as she put the papers back in the drawers and grabbed her purse. The office had resumed its quiet hum as she walked out of the building and across the street to the Griffith.

            It was the late afternoon anyways, many were returning from their jobs as she took the stairs up without saying as much as a hello to anyone and collapsed into her room.

            She flung open the windows and stuck her head out, breathing in the air. The sun was beating down and its heat made everything a loud haze, but the city couldn’t have looked more glorious than it did right then.

            The buildings were giant mirrors and the roads speakers as the way off life continued. The Hudson Bay in the distance was glittering like a jewel and a towering skyline rose up against the orange sun, creating an image she wanted to be seared in her mind forever.

            She could hear footsteps from Angie’s room if she listened hard enough over the infernal Captain America radio show drone from the surrounding rooms. She tore herself away from the window and pressed her ear to the thin wall and listened closely.

            Peggy could tell that she was pacing, the steps were regular and timed as they hit the floor and every so often there would be a pause, faint murmuring, and the steps would resume again like a clock.

            _Do I go in and ask what’s wrong? Is she coming to dinner? Do I ask her then? Do I ask her later tonight? Jeez, Angie’s back well before ten for once. I can’t…I shouldn’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers._ Peggy’s fingers knotted in her hair and she shook her hair and stared at the wallpapered surface in front of her and sighed. _I’ve got to talk to Angie Martinelli, and it’s got to be today_.

            Now in adjacent rooms, two women were pacing for two were different reasons. While their reasons were different, their actions always seemed to mimic each other’s, like strings tied around their wrists.

            Peggy Carter paced as she thought of the person in the adjacent room, the person who had in fact kissed her and whom she might’ve wanted to kiss back in the slightly drunken state she was in. Peggy Carter paced out of fear, out of the questions that might rise such as _why won’t you tell me where you work_ or _why exactly would I be in danger?_

            Angie Martinelli paced as she stared at the card. There was one person that she wanted to talk to about this more than anyone else, but of course that was off limits. _I’m a fucking idiot_.

            She paced and looked at the number and her fingers itched and of course then she stopped pacing and sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at the little card some more. Someone might actually _want_ her in a Broadway play.

            She stood up again and paced some more, her rhythm falling into the same that Peggy’s was, but of course she didn’t know that. She tucked the card into the mirror and stared at her disheveled hair and shook her head a little.

            “I’m not going to pass this up.” She said and turned to walk out the door for dinner. She would call tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

            In the other room, Peggy Carter wiped the lipstick off her lips and looked in the bathroom mirror before smoothing her curls. “I’m not going to let this slip through my fingers.”

 

* * *

 

            They ran into each other in the hallway. Both were equally as flustered when they nearly ran each other over in the stairwell.

            “Hey.” Angie’s throat was dry when she said it, stuffed with cotton as they stumbled down side by side on the stairs.

            “Hey yourself.”

            They were silent for a minute or so before Angie said something else. “I’ve gotta tell you something, something later though.”

            “Really?” Peggy’s interest was peaked.

            “Yeah, yeah it’s real good.”

            They branched off when they reached the ground floor and avoided each other for the duration of the dinner. Ms. Fry announced another departure from yet another failed attempt to sneak men into the housing unit. It was dinner, and it didn’t get any more mundane than this, but the only thing Angie could think of was _this sure beats the hell out of Automat dinners_.

            Peggy snuck glances out of the corner of her eye at Angie who was sitting down the table with a few other women. People were looking and whispering, wondering why Peggy and Angie weren’t sitting next to each other when they were at the same table and Ms. Fry peeked over the line of girls.

            She looked at Peggy disapprovingly and then stalked down the other line, ready to chew someone out for swearing.

            _What was that about?_ She thought and watched Miriam Fry patrol the area more. She hadn’t done anything recently, almost missed curfew a few nights as she tried to balance the SSR and getting back to the Griffith on time, but she hadn’t done anything horrible in the past weeks.

            Dinner ended slowly, girls leaving the table until there were only a few left. They peeled away like fabric and she stood up to maybe go through a little more paperwork she had brought home when Ms. Fry stood in front of her, the old lady’s scowl as heavy as ever.      

            “Ms. Carter.” She said stiffly. “I want to remind you that no men are allowed in this institution.”

            Peggy had to suppress a laugh as she nodded seriously. “I remember.”

            “So if I were to check your wardrobe or your bathroom I wouldn’t find any…unexpected visitors?”

            “Most certainly not!”

            “I’ve got my eye on you Ms. Carter!” Miriam Fry called as Peggy started to walk up the steps.

            “Let’s see if you like what you find.” Peggy muttered under her breath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No spoilers rule applies.  
> Track my SOB tag on my Tumblr (machinerisms.tumblr.com) for updates!


	7. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry that this took so long!   
> (There's fluff at the end. Bear with me)

            “This better be important, Howard!” Peggy practically screamed into the phone. She had sat in her room for over an hour now and hadn’t worked up the courage to go into Angie’s room and just as she was about to leave one of the girls rushed into her room and was babbling something about _a man_ calling her.

            That was enough to send her running.

            “So Peggy I think you remember HYDRA.” He said into the phone and Peggy’s eyes flitted around. No one was in the hallway, but that didn’t mean no one was listening. She sighed audibly into the receiver.

            “Yes I remember HYDRA.” She hissed.

            “Well there’s been an…issue.”

            “What kind of issue?”

            “Just, just come into the office. Please?”

            “ _Why_ Howard? I have important…business to take care of.”

            “Look Carter, I don’t give a damn what weird business you’ve gotten yourself into this time, but this is definitely more important!”

            She flinched and held the receiver away as his voice started to rise. “Do I have a choice?” She asked through gritted teeth, but the line was dead. That was answer enough.

 

* * *

 

            Ms. Fry tried to stop her. _Tried_ , but that didn’t really cut it with Peggy Carter. She pushed past her, into the street as Miriam screamed something unintelligent about curfews and men and how “unpure” she was and _was that even a word?_

            Angie watched Peggy run across the street and into the office buildings and sighed. Today had gone right in so many ways, but it just felt like it was going to end wrong.

            Both of their minds were racing for different reasons, but Peggy’s was racing because Howard had _called her_. Like actually called her and mentioned HYDRA and he hadn’t told her anything other than that. It concerned her, honestly.

            Howard was sitting in-between Jarvis and Thompson and all three looked increasingly uncomfortable when she stormed in the office. She hadn’t been able to fully change and was half in her nightgown and half in her office clothes.

            “Whoa is that what was important?” Howard whistled and in one swift move Peggy had walked over and slapped him.

            “What is going on with HYDRA?” She demanded and all three ducked their heads.

            “Well there’s apparently a new section.” Jarvis admitted. “It survived…they’re calling it Leviathan.”

            She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Did this have to happen now?”

            “Follow me.” Thompson said and they all trudged through the empty offices and into the back lab.

            One machine in the lab was going berserk, paper was spewing out of it and the screen kept flashing messages in German. The foursome stood and stared at the device.

            “What in the hell is that?” Peggy asked.

            “It intercepted German messages during the war.” Jarvis began to explain. “Thompson called Mr. Stark when it randomly switched on tonight. These messages are all in German, all concerning HYDRA and something more worrisome-Leviathan.”

            “And what’s that?”

            Thompson handed some of the long papers. “It seems related to HYDRA, but not quite. It’s not German necessarily, though. Some of these papers are in Russian. Best guess is that it’s Russia’s version of HYDRA and they’re collaborating.”

            “Shit.” Peggy mumbled, shaking her head. “Shit, shit, shit.”

            They all stared at the machine again. “We’ve got some work to do tonight.”

 

* * *

 

            It was _three in the morning_ and Peggy stared up the drainpipe of the Griffith. She took off her heels, inhaled, and began to claw her way up the side of the building towards her window on the third floor.

            Fifteen minutes and a ton of pain later, she crawled onto the window ledge, and hooked her hands under the window…

            The window was locked. That’s when she realized it wasn’t her window. It was Angie’s window and from the ground she had made a mistake. She sighed and grasped onto the ledge and began to knock on the window.

            “Angie!” She hissed and knocked harder. “Angie!”

            There was a rustling on the inside and she knocked harder, growing frustrated until the curtains were flung aside. A very tired looking Angie Martinelli was glaring back at her.

            She opened the window. “What the hell?” She practically screeched.

            “Can I come in?” Peggy asked.

            Angie sighed and beckoned her in and Peggy promptly collapsed on her bed.

            “Whoa, it’s a little early for that.” Angie joked, but nonetheless flopped down next to her.  They were silent for a few moments before Angie spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “I suppose that’s what we should do.”

            They both sighed. “Is it mutual?” Angie asked, her hand covering Peggy’s. Peggy felt her face heat up as it happened and she tried to think about her response. “I mean it’s okay if it isn’t.” Angie added, pulling her hand away.

            “No,” Peggy murmured. “I mean yes to the question, no to whatever else I mean, god I’m sorry.”   

            Angie nodded and her hand moved over Peggy’s again. “I mean are you alright? Is this too much for you, it’s okay if it is like we can go back to the way it was…” Her sentence was cut short.

            Peggy propped herself up on her elbow and looked over Angie. She could make out the outline of her face, the way her eyes were shining and the way her lips were parted ever so slightly.

            She moved slowly and Angie was still when their lips touched Angie made a small squeak in the back of her throat and lifted her hands to pull Peggy closer, pull her down against, pulled her so she could feel that she was real.

            They deepened the kiss, Angie pulling at her collar, trying to get her closer yet. Peggy broke off and looked at her, brushing her hand against her cheek. “Stay?” Angie asked, grasping Peggy’s hand like a lifeline.

            Peggy fell back down and lightly kissed her on her cheek. “Okay.”

            “You’re not playing around, right?” Angie asked, half asleep.

            “Of course not.”

            Angie nestled closer to here and Peggy felt her heartbeat even out before she let sleep drag her down.

 

           


	8. She Couldn't Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter yet. I'm trying to build the plot and the relationship at the same time. Thank you so much to all my readers who have been dealing with my...sporadic updates.

            It was early when she swiftly rolled off the bed and stood up. Peggy Carter blinked a few times and glanced at her dark surroundings. Angie was snoring lightly in the small bed and apart of her wanted to beat herself up and the other part wanted to smile like crazy. Oddly enough, neither of these two things happened. Instead she saw her bag at the foot of the bed, scooped it up, and padded out the door silently.

            She felt bad for not staying. Honestly, she could’ve stayed; there was no reason for her not to except the fact that she had quite a few mental hurdles to get over. Scratch that, a ton of mental hurdles to get over and her job limitations and the fact that even though Angie probably didn’t believe for a second that she worked at the phone company, she still wouldn’t be able to tell her.

            The hallway was dark because it was still early and she fumbled for her keys before pushing them into the lock and unlocking the door. She stepped in, locked it behind her, and looked in the mirror.

            It wouldn’t take an SSR agent to realize that she was a mess. Her normal curls were undone and fell into her face. Most of her eye makeup was missing or severely faded and her lips still held a faint stain where her lipstick once was. Peggy Carter realized that she was falling apart.

            She didn’t have time to redo her curls like she usually would’ve, so she settled on pulling it into a tight bun at the back of her head. She washed her face and redid her makeup and just as she was about to leave to get a cup of coffee before throwing herself back into work, the phone in the hallway rang.

            “What the hell?” Someone screamed from down the hall. Peggy dashed for the phone and answered it, irritated.

            “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, calling this early?”

            “Good morning to you Peggy.” It was Sousa.

            “I was already on my way over, how important could this be?”

            “Oh good, you’re on your way over now.” She heard faint yelling in the background of the conversation. “Well, Thompson said he wants you in now and I know you had a late night, but he’s being so unreasonable…”

            “I’ll be in Daniel. Give me a couple minutes to catch my breath.”

            They both laughed. “I’ll tell Thompson.”

            “Great.” She hung up the phone and started to walk towards the stairwell. It was still early enough to leave without being seen.

            “Peggy?” The voice startled her and she jumped ever so slightly. “Where are you going?”

            Peggy spun around and saw Angie standing in the hallway, her apartment door open. She didn’t know what to say, her words seemed stuck in her throat. “I-I have to go to work.” She stammered.

            “Yeah, that damn phone company.” Angie replied, her voice quieter yet.

            “I know.”

            “Look, English I’m sorry. I dunno what’s going on in your head right now, but I’m sorry. I really never meant to do nothing, but yeah. It’s your life sojust forget it. Alright?”

            They both exchanged shell-shocked looks. “It’s not that Angie, it’s really not.” She couldn’t explain. In a million years, she could never explain it.

            “Then what is it?” Her voice wasn’t angry, it was just quiet and hurt sounding and she couldn’t blame her. It would’ve hurt her too.

            “I can’t explain it.” Peggy cried softly. “I’m sorry Angie.”

            She hadn’t meant to be this soppy. She was Peggy fucking Carter and she was supposed to hold it together. Peggy Carter was supposed to be able to get through anything and show no emotion. She could survive Captain America’s death with only minor mental scars. She could get through anything if she tried hard enough.

            But what if she was tired of trying?

            Didn’t matter. She grabbed one of the muffins off the table on the ground floor and looked around. No one was to be seen, even Ms. Fry hadn’t bothered checking to see if anyone was awake.

            _Don’t cry_. It was more of a reprimand than a reminder at this point. The last time she cried was during the war and that couldn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter because you simply didn’t cry when a war was over. You didn’t wish to be back in an army camp and you didn’t cry because you think you just broke your neighbors heart.

            She growled in frustration and stepped onto the sidewalk. She looked around, crossed the street, and entered the office building the SSR was in and took a bite of the horrendously bland muffin. She didn’t care enough to think if the muffin was actually bland or if it was just her.

            “Morning Peggy.” Daniel said when she walked in and sat down at her desk, holding her head in her hands and looked up to reply.

            “It’s quite a morning Daniel.” She greeted. It wasn’t a hostile gesture, but it wasn’t necessarily friendly either.

            “I heard. Thompson had a lot of you here pretty late last night, didn’t he.”

            “Yeah.” She smiled weakly at him.

            “I don’t think Thompson ever left. He’s been staring at that damn machine, writing down every message that pops out of it. Stark’s trying to find someone to translate it all.”

            “It doesn’t really feel like I left either.” She replied.

            “Yeah the lot of you seems pretty burnt out.”

            They both laughed. “That’s about accurate.”

            “Then you better go see Thompson before he blows a fuse.”

            She finished the muffin and threw the wrapper in the wastebasket. “I suppose you’re right.”

            She wound her way to the back of the office and into the room where Thompson was. He was face down on the wooden table, he obviously he had fallen asleep while he was trying to watch the machine.

            Peggy tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He shot up like a rocket and looked around frantically before his eyes landed on her. “What time is it?”

            “It’s around five in the morning.” She said, trying to hide her annoyance.

            “Dammit! I fell asleep.”

            “I would expect so.”

            “Did you do any thinking on this Leviathan issue?”

            “Um…” Her voice trailed off and she blushed a bit. “Yeah a little. I think it’s probably Russia’s version of HYDRA. I’d bet they’re taking HYDRA’s ideas and using them for their own devices. HYDRA’s gone, Jack, but their ideas aren’t so that’s why they’re talking about the Nazi deep science division. I don’t think Leviathan is deep science though, which is troubling.”

            He rubbed his temples. “These guys aren’t HYDRA because they’re Russian.” He held up a piece of typed paper. “This doesn’t look like German.”

            She cocked her head. “That looks a bit like Ukrainian or Russian. Something along those lines, I’d guess.”

            He nodded. “You know anyone that speaks Russian?”

            She sat down on a chair across from him and shook her head. “I wish. Is Stark trying to contact someone?”

            “He’s been trying for hours. No way he’s found anyone.”

            They both sighed. “So what do we do?”

            “I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

            It was late when she left the office again. They couldn’t find anyone who could speak Russian or Ukrainian for that matter and they basically spent the day feeding the machine more paper. Jarvis was on paper duty for the night; they were going to have to switch on and off.           

            Peggy made her way down the street and into the small corner store. They sold wine and flowers and cheap cigarettes that she used to pick up for her uncle on Saturdays because buying cigarettes on Sunday was a sin according to him.

            She really didn’t have the money to be buying a good bottle of wine, but she did anyways and with it bought a single violet and walked back into the Griffith. Ms. Fry’s stare seemed pinned to her back as she made her way upstairs, smuggling the bottle in her purse.

            Angie wasn’t back for dinner so she quickly ate and slipped back into her room, leaving the window open and leaning out. It was a nice night and the temperature had dropped enough to make it comfortable to live with.

            She knew Angie was back when she heard her apartment door slam and angry footsteps click against the hardwood. She sighed and leaned her head against the wall. She was going to explain everything; she had to.

            Around nine at night she picked up the bottle of wine and the violet and knocked on her door, taking a deep breath. The door opened a crack and Angie peeked her head out.

            “Hey.” Angie’s voice splintered like glass.

            “Hi. Can I come in?” She asked.

            Angie glanced at the wine and the flower and undid the chain on the door, and Peggy stepped in. They both slumped on the floor and Angie revealed a bottle opener and she opened the bottle and took a sip.

            Peggy handed her the flower and Angie blushed before taking another drink and passing the bottle over.

            “Are you going to explain to me what’s going on?” She asked, resting her head on Peggy’s shoulder.

            “Yeah.”

            “If it starts with ‘I work at the phone company’, I’m going to kill you, English.”

            Peggy laughed. “I guess it starts a few months ago when I saved your life.”

            “It seems like it was the other way around.” Angie laughed.

            “I don’t work for the phone company, first of all.”

            “I figured.”

            “I work for a spy agency run by the government. I was chasing someone that day-you got caught in the crossfire.” Angie nodded against her shoulder and intertwined their fingers lazily, smiling faintly as she did. “It’s new and we’re all trying to settle down now so that’s my job.”

            “You’re a _spy_?”

            “Pretty much.”

            She tried to explain everything else, but there weren’t enough words. Angie kept tracing her hand with hers and it was making her crazy and they talked. They talked about the war and the future and while Peggy couldn’t tell her everything, she told her enough so that she knew exactly where Peggy came from.

            It was heaven, it was hell, and it was everything and nothing.

            It was like the war all over again.

            It was late when Peggy realized Angie had nodded off on her shoulder. Very carefully she undid their hands and recapped the bottle, hiding it under the bed. Then she scooped Angie up and laid her on the bed and she was about to leave when Angie mumbled something incoherent and reached for her.

            She couldn’t leave this time. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

            The beds were small, but she kicked off her shoes and crawled next to Angie in the small bed and the waitress rolled over and wrapped herself around Peggy, settling her head on her shoulder again.

            They both fell asleep, their arms wrapped around one another.

 


	9. It's Going to be Perfect

            “I found someone to translate the papers!” Howard Stark yelled through the phone. Peggy held the receiver away from her and cringed a bit. These late night calls were getting old for everyone.

            “Really?” Her voice was dry and brittle from lack of sleep and annoyance towards the man on the other line.

            “Do you mind coming in right now? She’s here and she’s starting to translate are you coming?”

            She sighed and glanced at her pajamas. “I’ll be there. Let me change.”

            She hung up the phone and padded back into her apartment quietly. Angie lifted her head up and squinted. “Whattaya doin’?” She asked, grabbing at the air sleepily.

            “I have to go into work.” Peggy whispered back, tugging her nightgown over her head and pulling on a blouse and loose fitting pants.

            Angie stumbled out of bed and draped her arms around Peggy’s neck, kissing her lightly on the lips, only to be pulled closer by her.

            “Mm.” Peggy ducked out of Angie’s arms and picked up and her bag to walk out of apartment. “Go back to bed Angie.”

            Angie smiled and collapsed on the bed, closing her eyes. “Go save the world, English.”

            She quietly slipped out of apartment and down the steps. The building was totally dark and she was almost to the front door when all the lights flipped on.

            “Ms. Carter!” Ms. Fry yelled and Peggy jumped and set down her bag. “What do you think you’re doing?”

            “My work, they uh called me. I gotta go in.”

            “And where exactly do you work?” Her voice was shrill.

            “The phone company. Apparently there’s a ton of calls going through and they…”

            “Phone calls? At this hour?”

            “Ms. Fry if you don’t mind, I really do have to go.”  
            The old lady sighed. “I’ve got my eye on you Carter.”

            Peggy opened the door and darted across the street and opened the door to the lobby of the building. Stark was lounging in a chair he pulled from another room and was smoking a cigarette. His eyes were heavy and his hair was undone and the smoke curled around him and he coughed a bit before sucking in a little more.

            “Howard!” She yelled as she walked over and tipped him out of the chair.

            “Good morning Peggy.” He said from the floor and then lifted up the hand that his cigarette was resting in. “Cigarette?”

            She smacked the stub out of his hand and crushed it under her heel. “What is this about a translator?”

            They walked into the elevator and stood with their backs against the far wall. “Sorry. It’s late.”

            “Yeah, yeah I know. I was having a decent night before _you_ called.”

            He arched his eyebrows and she groaned with annoyance. “Hot date?”

            “Shut up Howard. Not like that. I haven’t slept in weeks. I’m not seeing anyone, anyhow.”

            “Yeah then what’s with all the smiling?” He asked, nudging her. “I haven’t seen you this happy since…”

            “Not seeing anyone and it’s not your business if I am.”

            “So you _are_!”

            “I’m not seeing anyone Howard. I don’t have time and the woman who runs my apartment building has a stick up her ass about men visiting and such. I couldn’t be ‘seeing’ anyone even if I wanted to.”

            He resigned to a bit of silence and the doors opened up. Thompson was slumped against a wall, sleeping.

            “Are all of you asleep?” Peggy yelled, marching in and standing in the middle of the room.

            Thompson jolted awake and looked around. “I’m awake!” He yelled, stumbling to his feet and supporting himself on the wall. “I’m awake!”

            “Translator?” She demanded and Stark and Thompson sheepishly lead her to the back room.

            A woman was hurriedly crouched over a table was writing quickly. She wasn’t looking up or around; she as just focused on her writing.

            A few hours later they were reading her scrawled handwriting, hitting each other’s arms every time they read something relevant.

            “Pegs, look at this.” Howard said, passing over a long scrawl of paper. “It’s talking about girls, I don’t know how old they are but from this they seem pretty young.”

            “Russian girls? As spies?” Thompson asked, quickly scanning the papers. “Shit.”

            “What?” Peggy and Howard asked at the same time.

            “You’re right.”

 

* * *

 

            She let herself into her apartment and sat down on the bed, rubbing her temples. She mentally ran through a list of what she had learned today. First, there were Russian spies being trained at a young age. Second, they were almost more confused now than when they were trying to read all the papers in Russian.

            They would resume tomorrow.

            There was light knocking on the door. “You in there Pegs?” It was Angie.

            “Come in Angie.”

            Angie let herself in, shut the door behind her and sat down next to Peggy, resting her head on her shoulder. Peggy tangled her fingers in Angie’s hair and they leaned against each other.

            “Did I mention that I have an audition in two days?” She asked.

            “You most certainly did not!”

            “Yeah, well this person at the diner gave it to me and told me to audition. I hope it goes well, y’know?”

            Peggy laughed. “It’s going to go perfect.” She planted a light kiss on the top of Angie’s head.

            Angie sat up and looked at Peggy, turning her head lightly with her fingers as she did. She held the back of Peggy’s neck and pulled her closer, running her tongue along the bottom of the agent’s lip.

            Peggy hummed in response, parting her lips slightly and moving her mouth against Angie’s. A small moan sounded from the back of Angie’s throat and their tongues slid over each others before they separate, a small blush covering most of Peggy’s pale skin.

            “Wow.” Angie breathed. Her head had resumed the same spot on Peggy’s shoulder.

            “Are you alright-I mean like how do you feel? Are you okay?” Peggy stammered out, trying to find the right words. She felt like she was on cloud nine.

            “I feel great, Pegs.”

            Peggy kicked off her shoes and lay on the bed next to Angie. Both of them had missed dinner because of work related issues (both involving their male co-workers) and were happy not to make reappearance that night.

            Most of the night was spent kissing, every time different from the last. Angie called it ‘practice’ and Peggy laughed it off, combing out Angie’s thick hair and mapping every part of her lips.

            “This is just practice.” Angie murmured sleepily, falling asleep in Peggy’s arms yet again. “You wait until its not.”

            Peggy pressed a kiss to Angie’s forehead. “We’ll see.” She teased.

            She felt Angie’s breathing and heart rate steady against her chest before relaxing and falling asleep with her.

            The days ended the same way. Always like this. She hadn’t been this happy it what had seemed like a lifetime and she wasn’t going to take it for granted.

            Moonlight seeped through the cracks in the curtains and they illuminated Angie’s sleeping face. Peggy sighed and ran the back of her hand across her cheek. _God, she’s beautiful_.

            She knew in the end that this was going to end in disaster. She knew in the end that this state of peace in-between it all would fall apart in a matter of days or hours, but she couldn’t bring herself to think about it. Peggy Carter didn’t want her heart broken ahead of time.

            Peggy gave into exhaustion, her dreams starting off sweet and then turning into a nightmare, a hell she couldn’t even devise for herself. When she woke up, it was Angie shaking her awake, trying to get her to calm down. Trying to get her to remember that she stayed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for the continued support. You guys really are the bomb.


	10. She Took the First (Flight) to Russia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She doesn't actually go to Russia in this chapter. That's next chapter.  
> Thank you for the support!

            The files were dropped on her desk with grace or anything reminiscent of that. Thompson stood above her, glaring (no more than usual) and looked like he was going to ream her a new one.

            “Agent.” Peggy Carter said curtly, continuing to read a file on Russian war activity.

            “Carter, so some of us and the Howling Commandos are going to Russia to investigate. I need you to hold down the fort while we’re out.”

            Her head snapped up. “You aren’t planning to take me to Russia? With the Howling Commandos?”

            “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.”  
            She rose to her feet and became eye level with him, glaring. “Can I ask you why that would be such a ridiculous notion?”

            The office had grown silent. They were used to Peggy and Thompson’s stand-offs, but they never ceased to be amazed when they watched. Sousa sank down in his chair at the back off the office and tapped his foot against the floor nervously.

            Peggy watched her co-worker scramble for the right words. “Sousa didn’t want you getting hurt…” He tried to explain. “And we need someone to –.”

            “To what? Wait around and get your files and lunches?” She wheeled around and stared at Daniel. “You have no right to worry about me!” She turned back around to Thompson and Daniel looked increasingly uncomfortable. “You think I can’t handle it.” Her voice was deadly quiet. The tension in the room was stifling as they faced off.

            “We’re leaving tomorrow at five.” He cleared his throat. “Five in the morning, here at the office. Don’t be late.”

            She picked up her bag and shot another acidic look at him. “I won’t.”

            Peggy Carter stalked out of the office and stood alone in the elevator, fuming. Her grip on her bag was tight, tight enough that her knuckled had turned a ghostly color. The wordless elevator music seemed to mock her and she stepped out onto the tiled floor of the lobby.

            The sound her heels made when they clicked against the floor were enough to make anyone flinch, but they sounded like gunshots to her. When she exited the building, the sun was starting to set behind the ever-rising skyscrapers and she darted across the street and let herself back into the Griffith.

            “Ms. Carter!” Miriam Fry yelled, running behind her. “It’s a little early for you to be back, don’t you think?”

            “Oh hello ma’am.” Peggy said, plastering a smile on her face. “I just thought I’d let you know that I’m going on a business trip for a few days. I should be back within the week.”

            Ms. Fry smiled, buying the lie. At least Peggy hoped she was buying it. “That’s lovely! Why are they sending you out of state?”

            “I think they want to make me a secretary in Pennsylvania or something.” That was yet another lie. “I won’t know exactly what’s going on until a get there.” The last part was true.

            “Well good luck!” the lady called.

            “Thank you!”

            Peggy walked up the steps, her smile fading as she entered the third floor and unlocked the door to her apartment.

            She dug through the only closet, looking for a suitcase. She knew she owned a couple of them, but where they were was another matter entirely.

            Eventually she found two battered suitcases, covered in assorted stickers from around the world. She opened them up on the floor and then leaned back on her haunches as she stared at them.

            Going to Russia didn’t matter to her, not really. What mattered was the fact that neither Thompson nor Sousa trusted her enough to go. What mattered was that both of them thought that she couldn’t handle herself. No one in the office trusted her anyways; she was going to have to prove herself the hard way.

            It wasn’t like she hadn’t proven herself before. All the way back during the war she had to punch and shoot her way to anything close to respect. Even once she had done that, she hadn’t necessarily earned everyone’s respect. It was more like she owned everyone’s fears in a ‘ _don’t cross me’_ way.

            The only person she knew that she most definitely had respect from was Steve. She had his respect…and his love and then he just _died_. In an instant he was gone, he was dead and gone and…

            She sat on the floor and blinked the tears out of her eyes. That was almost two years ago and this was bullshit. She was not going to cry. Not now, at least. She couldn’t afford to cry.

            Angie wasn’t home for dinner, so she talked pleasantly with everyone else about her trip. Everyone was in an amiable mood for once (Including Ms. Fry, which was odd) and the talk was polite as everyone discussed plans for the weekends and the coming weeks.

            Around eight she excused herself to go back to her apartment. She had already begun to fold clothes into the suitcases, hiding small weapons within the folds as she did. Pistols, hair ties, her quite poisonous lipstick, some extra ammo, and other assorted odds and ends. She could only assumed that she would be provided with a better weapon later.

            About an hour later, the larger suitcase was almost fully packed. She knew she couldn’t bring two, so she left the one lying open and ready to be packed later.

            Peggy stepped into the bathroom and yanked her blouse over her head and kicked off her pants before turning on the shower and stepping into it.

            The water pressure was anything but stellar, thanks to the fact that everyone was showering right around then. She washed the shampoo out of her hair when she heard the apartment door open.

            _Shit_. She thought. _I forgot to lock it_.

            She heard footsteps stumble across the apartment and a loud clattering sound before the bathroom door opened. She had backed herself away from the door, when the shower curtain was flung aside and a rather disheveled Angie Martinelli stepped in.

            Angie was still in her waitress dress and the water was causing the cheap fabric to cling to her uncomfortably. Her makeup had already started to streak and the water was flattening her hair.

            Peggy struggled from the right words as Angie stood there, her dress already becoming semi-transparent. “Why are there suitcases on the floor of your apartment?” She asked. Her hands had found a place on her hips as she stared at Peggy.

            “I’m not leaving.” She clarified.

            “Then where are you going?”

            This was definitely one of the more uncomfortable confrontations she had ever had to make. “I can’t tell you.”

            Angie stepped closer to her, nearly slipping on the tile before Peggy caught her and Angie ripped off her heels and flung them out of the shower. “Can’t tell me as in ‘it’s confidential’ or can’t tell as in ‘I don’t want to tell you’.”

            “I don’t know if it’s confidential…”

            “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”  
            “They’re sending me to Russia. Just for a couple days, but I’ve got to go investigate some stuff.”

            “As in Russian spies.” Angie laughed a little. “British spy working for an American organization. Wouldn’t you hate it if I got to call you a Commie too?”

            Peggy laughed. “That would be awful.”

            Angie’s eyes seemed to scan Peggy’s body with a sort of fascination. “You’re beautiful, Pegs. Anyone ever tell you that before?”

            Peggy took a step towards Angie. The look she was giving her made her want to collapse or melt, she wasn’t exactly sure.

            There could’ve been like that for fifty seconds or fifty years before Angie’s lips met hers, her hands cupping Peggy’s cheeks and Peggy’s hands pulling at her dress.

            Angie was panting, her lips slightly parted when she pulled away. Peggy nodded they kissed again, less frantic this time. It was deliberate; it was frustratingly deliberate as Angie wrapped her arms around her hips and her kisses moved from her mouth to her cheeks, leaving Peggy to bite her lip to stop any noise from coming out.

            She left a trail of kiss town her neck and onto her shoulder, nipping the skin slightly as she moved.

            Peggy had thrown her head back into the wall, her nails digging into Angie’s back. Angie left her shoulder and resumed to kiss her on the mouth. Their tongues tangled and Angie’s hands ran across her breasts and she swallowed the breathy groans emitting from Peggy’s mouth.

            Her eyes were squeezed shut and she began mouthing incoherent words. “Please.” The word was barely whispered as Peggy pulled Angie closer and Angie grabbed her waist, her fingers teasing at the soft curls she found.

            The water had long since run cold, but the combined heat rolling off their bodies was enough to stop that from registering.

            As if in slow motion, Angie slipped two fingers into Peggy and this time her head hit the shower tiles hard and it made a hollow noise as something like a hiss exited her mouth.

            “You alright?” Angie teased in her ear. “Don’t want that to swell.”

            “ _God_.” The word was punctuated as her hips rolled into Angie’s hand. Her breath was coming out ragged and in a string on muffled swears and other assorted phrases she came.

            Angie kissed her again, pulling her hand away and wrapping her arms around her until she felt Peggy’s heart rate slow down.

            “You are taking this off.” Peggy said as she helped tug the dress off of Angie and shut off the shower. Her water bill was going to be through the roof this month, but she didn’t care. This was worth it.

            They left the wet clothes on the shower floor and tripped out, making their way into the main room as Peggy Pushed Angie onto the bed and fell on top of her, her hands gripping her ass and Angie arching up to meet her body.

            “You have no idea,” She gasped as Peggy kissed her way down to her breasts. “How long I’ve been thinking about this.”

            She laughed as she took a breast in her mouth and rolled the nipple between her tongue and her teeth, hearing a quiet groan from Angie. Peggy could hear her heart beating out of her chest as she changed to the other way and earned another low groan. As this happened, she was aware of Angie’s increasingly frantic movements against her.

            “Dio per favore.” She heard Angie choke out and she trailed her kisses lower until Angie was speaking Italian so fast and so slurred that Peggy couldn’t catch what she was saying anymore. “Oh god.” Angie said again, her hand tangling in Peggy’s hair.

            She brought her tongue up her sex in one movement, causing another slew of the same phrase over and over in Italian. “Mi stai uccidendo.” She repeated as Peggy’s nose bumped her clit causing Angie’s body to jolt.

            Peggy pressed the tip of her tongue against Angie’s clit and slowly entered her with two fingers, causing a series of low moans and squeaks to escape her lips. “You’re gonna kill me, Pegs.” Angie gasped; finally, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted.

            “Dio, Dio.” She was biting her lip to stop from screaming as spasms wracked her body and Peggy crawled back up to kiss her, falling to the side as they both laughed.

            “Ti amo.” Angie said, burying her head in Peggy’s chest. “I love you.”

            “I love you too, Angie.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got to go early tomorrow.”

            “Mm, me too.”

            “Super spy stuff, y’know?”

            Angie propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Peggy. “Then we better make the night worth it.”

            They both laughed as Angie fell back on top of her, kissing her deeply.

 


	11. Summer Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little filler chapter from Angie's point of view.  
> School is almost over for me and while that's super exciting that also means that I'll be going to camp for three weeks around June 20th. I probably won't get another chapter out until August before that (this goes for all of my multi chapter stuff) and none of my multi chapter stuff will be finished before then including this one. I promise I won't leave you all on too much of a cliffhanger before I can resumed your normally scheduled sporadic updates.  
> Again, thank you all so much!  
> xoxo Lara

            Her outstretched fingertips found a little bit of warmth where Peggy once was. She missed her by only a few minutes probably. She let out a frustrated and angry sound before sinking back down into the pillow. Who knew if she was actually coming back alive? Angie sure as hell didn’t know.

            She pressed her face into the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut harder, willing herself not to cry. Peggy was coming back and they would talk about what was happening.

            Today was her audition. The audition on the card with the golden writing. Today was the audition. Today was the audition and Peggy wasn’t going to be there because she would be in Russia. Where her life would be in danger. Peggy was a entire ocean away from her.

            And it hurt; it hurt like a motherfucker.

            Angie wrapped a towel around her and slinked out of Peggy’s room in an attempt of not to be seen. It worked and she let herself back into her apartment and fell back asleep in her bed. It was cold and she wished she could’ve continued sleeping in Peggy’s bed, but that would’ve been a fatal mistake.

            The day started to go downhill the moment she stepped downstairs and was dragged into Miriam Fry’s office.

            “Miss Martinelli.” She had said, pacing in front of the girl. “You know there are no men allowed of the first floor.”

            “Yes Ma’am.” Angie held herself straight up. What was going on?

            “That does not mean I will tolerate the likes of you and Miss Carter.”

            “What?” _Shit_.

            “You know full well what I mean!” The old lady’s face was flushed red. “And I know your little is gone for a couple days, but the moment she’s back,” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “You’re both gone!”

            Angie was taken aback. “Ma’am you really don’t think-,”

            “Do you think I’m stupid?”

            “No Ma’am.” Angie was sure she was blushing now.

            “Then I suggest you make arrangements to leave the moment Miss Carter gets back!” Miriam pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and lowered her head while slowly shaking it back and forth. “Just get out.”

            She skipped breakfast and took a cab to the theater early that morning. The audition went amazing, better than any audition before that. She was told to expect an answer in the next few days and she nodded nervously before leaving.

            Even as she smiled and stepped into the summer sun she couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that something was about to go horribly, terribly wrong.

 


	12. Learn Again

            She was sitting next to Daniel Sousa in a plane. She was half asleep on his shoulder and he hadn’t dared move for the past hour. For the first time in his short life Peggy looked peaceful, almost like she wasn’t as deadly as she was, but he wasn’t that naïve. He knew if he even approached her about how peaceful she looked when she slept he would have to be shipped home in pieces.

            He wanted to dare to have his hand become closer to hers on the arm of the chair, but that was another thing he couldn’t even dare to do. He settled for watching her at peace when she slept and ignoring the smirks sent his way from Agent Thompson.

            Peggy dreamt of the previous night, Angie’s hair fanned out behind her, the way her makeup had smeared down her cheeks, and the small blush that had crept up on her face early the next morning when she had found herself wrapped around Angie’s body and careful removing herself from the situation so she could leave. The small blush that had taken over her face when she watched Angie’s chest rise and fall with her deep breaths.

            In the end turbulence is what had woken her up. She jolted awake, jumping off of Daniel’s shoulder and looking around bewildered before glancing out the plane window and sighing deeply and closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly.

            “You alright?” Daniel asked, nudging her shoulder.

            She nodded absently. “Just a little tired.”

            “Late night?” She glared at him and she heard Thompson’s shallow laugh from the back of the plane. He shrank away when she glared at him. “Not like that no, more like you couldn’t sleep?”

            “No I couldn’t.” Peggy admitted before staring out the window again. “So what exactly are we doing in Russia?”

            “Well Peggy I’m going to have to correct you.” Peggy groaned and Howard Stark leaned over her seats from behind. “We’ve been calling it Russia, but it’s really the Soviet Union. We’re going to the land of Commies!”

            “Sit down Howard.”

            He shrank back and she laughed a little bit as she heard him grumble indignantly and then shut up.

            “Well its mostly recon.” Daniel explained. “But we traced some of the signals back to this place and we want to see what it is. We’re not exactly sure what we’re going to find but we’ve got enough weapons on this plane to blow the place off the map just in case we find something we don’t like.”

            “Thank god. I could only get in a couple handguns in the suitcase I packed.”

            “You’re a disgrace, Pegs.” Howard joked and lightly put a hand on her head.

            She grabbed his wrist like the speed of light and dragged him over the back of her seat. Daniel and Howard look startled to say the least and Howard awkwardly stood up and strolled to the other side of the plane and grabbed a drink from the table and downed it and eyed Peggy awkwardly.

            “Why the hell is he here?” Peggy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

            “He’s the tech guy.” Thompson explained. “Frankly I like him.”

            “Don’t listen to him.” Sousa whispered. “He’s just trying to be annoying.”

            The rest of the plane ride passed mostly peacefully and after the first lively conversation passed, Peggy fell asleep again but this time her head was pressed against the cold window and she drifted into a sleep where she kept thinking about the night before.

            If she hadn’t been so damn exhausted the dreams would’ve kept her awake for the next century. The dream where she kept thinking of Angie in the dim lighting of her apartment, stretched out on the bed beneath her, her hand on her breast, her mouth trailing on the younger woman’s thigh, and Angie biting her lip and squeaking out her name trying not to scream.

            Angie had of course returned the favor, silencing Peggy with kisses and keeping her on a cliff so steep she was sure she would never reach a bottom. But what _really_ got Peggy was the way, an hour before she had to leave, Angie rolled over onto her side and just stared at Peggy with the laziest smile on her face like she had a happy secret…

            “Carter!” The voice jolted her awake again and she sat bolt upright, smoothing out her hair. “Come look at the weapons arsenal.”

            The mission was only her, Thompson, Sousa, and Howard and the four of them squeezed into the back room of the plane that was packed with weapons. Large weapons of war, automatic guns, prototypes for bulletproof armor, and other assorted ‘toys’ (as the men in the SSR put it) that they had stockpiled.

            Peggy changed into the clothes she had brought in the bathroom, dark clothes that fit to her form almost perfectly and came out with her hair in a tight bun and her eyeliner and lipstick perfectly applied.

            Sitting across her seat was an unloaded M16 and in multiple vest pockets were ammo to put in it. Strapped to her left leg was a small handgun with a little bit of ammo as well and on her right leg was a twisted dagger she had been using since the beginning of the war. It had never seen any use other than cutting hair and clothes, but it was like a safety blanket when she carried it around.

            The motley crew of four sat back down in their seats as Agent Thompson walked down the isle and handed everyone the standard backpack with food, water, a canteen, and a sleeping bag. He didn’t say much when he sat back down, but she could tell he wasn’t in the greatest mood.

            “I promise someone I would be coming back.” Peggy said quietly.

            “That’s awful dumb making those kinds of promises in our line of work.”

            “I know, I know, but sometimes you just can’t help it.”

            He shrugged. “I don’t really have anyone left to make those kinds of promises to. My Ma’s in the Midwest, my father’s dead. I mean I could call her up and tell her that I’m going to the Soviet Union and risking my hide for the security of the country, but it’s not worth it giving her more heart attacks. She knows I work for the Government, but I’m not gonna tell her more.”

            Peggy nodded solemnly. “That’s what it’s been like for me for a while now. I wish I could stop myself from caring so damn much but,” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s a stupid fucking impulse.”

            He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright to care.” He glanced back at Agent Thompson. “Sometimes I think it’s better to not care at all, but I see people like him and I realize that it’s sometimes better to care too much than not enough. Do you catch my drift?”

            She nodded. “I guess I’m just trying to learn how to care again.”

            He looked straight ahead. “Aren’t we all.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT EVERYONE!  
> So as you know, summer is rapidly approaching. I am going to be gone for almost all of June, July, and early August which means I will be gone for two months without updating. Yes, I said two months. So that means the update after this one is going to be the last one until mid-August.  
> I am so sorry for this guys  
> Btw, you guys are the greatest thank you so much for over 2,000 views I am seriously honored.  
> XOXO, Lara  
> Note: This also applies to my Orphan Black AU, Cameraman.


	13. Couldn't Have Seen it Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I! Finally! Updated!  
> Thank you for not killing me! :)

            It had happened so fast. Dugan had gotten stabbed and the girl had leapt up after stealing his gun and all she could think about was chasing after her. All she could think about was stopping her because if she got away that was the last source of information they had. If she got away they were in more danger than she ever wanted to be and so she chased after the young girl with the blonde braids.

            They were rushing down a long flight of stairs, Peggy leaping over the railings to keep u with her, a pistol in front of her periodically shooting at her, to get her to stop.

            It wasn’t until they reached the ground floor she realized how much trouble she was in exactly.

            Peggy Carter was good.

            Peggy Carter was very good and she dodged the young girl’s attempted stab with her knife and rolled out of the way, crouching on the floor and aiming the gun at her. She wasn’t aiming to kill, no she was aiming to get information, and Peggy Carter was aiming to win.

            The girl was aiming to kill.

            She had taken Dugan’s gun and in less than a moment there was a shot fired and she couldn’t remember anything. She could remember, she could remember the pain, the scream, the way her chest felt like it was going to explode. She could remember hitting the dusty floor, the girl standing over her and in the last moment was able to pick up her gun and aim it. She could remember how the girl hit the ground next to her.

            She couldn’t remember being dragged out of there and being flown back to the states.

 

* * *

 

            “Is this Miriam Fry?” Jarvis asked nervously into the phone. He had heard stories about her and exactly how scary she was and was nervous talking to her over the phone to ask about Angela Martinelli.

            “Who is this?” She asked curtly.

            “My name is Edwin Jarvis and…”

            “We do not need any men calling our women!” She shrieked and he winced.

            “I’m asking about someone named Angela Martinelli?” He asked. “Do you know where I could find her?”

            “She’s here now.” She answered, disgusted. “Are you finally going to haul her off to a mental institution?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “I take it that you’re not. She’s here anyways.” She sniffed.

            “Could you call her to the front, there’s a cab waiting for her. We need her.”

            “I doubt _anyone_ needs her but I’ll send her down. Should I tell her who called?”

            “Uh, tell her that it involves someone by the name of Margaret Carter.”

            “Not her too!” Ms. Fry said, aggravated.

            “Ma’am this is an emergency _please_ send Ms. Martinelli down.”

            “Fine.” She said and hung up the phone. She was torn whether or not to listen to him, anything involving Margaret Carter was bad news. However not delivering the message to her could be considered illegal and she preferred to stay on the right side of the law so she marched up the stairs and began banging on the young woman’s door.

            “Ms. Martinelli, there is a cab downstairs waiting for you.” She said angrily.

            “I didn’t order a cab miss, there must be some mistake.”

            “Ms. Martinelli I _know_ you didn’t order it. I was told to tell you that it had something to do with _Margaret Carter_.” She said with disgust.

            The door flung open and Angie stood in the doorway, wide eyed. “You said the cab was here?”

            “Yes.” The other woman sighed.

            “Thank you.” She shoved two ones in the old woman’s hand before locking the door and tripping down the stairs, pulling on a light jacket. She rushed out the door and saw a man in a suit and fedora standing in front of something that looked more like a limousine than a taxicab.

            “Are you Angela Martinelli?” He called and she walked over.

            “Yeah. Who are you?”

            “I’ll explain in the car if you get in.”          

            She got into the backseat and he followed, taking off his hat after the door closed and the car sped away.

            “You’re Howard Stark!” She said.

            “Hell yeah I’m Howard Stark, but that’s not the point right now. We’ve got an issue.”

            “What kind of issue?” Then she felt the blood leave her face when his head dropped. “Oh no.”

            No. She wasn’t dead. Peggy Carter wasn’t dead. _Peggy Carter could not possibly be dead_ , what was she going to do? She was going to evicted with no place to go and she was going to be without Peggy and _what would she do? What could she do?_

            “She’s not dead yet.” Howard said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.

            Angie sniffed and wiped some of the tears out of her eyes. “What?”

            “She’s been injured, pretty bad. You were her emergency contact so Mr. Jarvis called you.”

            “I-I’m her emergency contact?”

            “Apparently.”

            That made her cry harder.

 


	14. After All This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update time!

            “Oh God.” Jarvis, Howard, and Angie entered the hospital room. Peggy was laying in a white bed, covered in white sheets, in a white room, and the only thing to indicate that this wasn’t some sort of strange dream was the jarring red of the blood coming down the tube and into Peggy’s body. Peggy Carter for the first time in Angie’s opinion, looked broken.

            “She’s looking good.” Howard said. “You should sit down. They had to operate on her and put her under. Do you want me to get you coffee?”

            “If you put a little alcohol in it, that would be good.”

            “Now I can’t do that, but I can get you normal coffee.”

            Angie nodded blankly. “Yeah that sounds good.”

            Howard left the room and she collapsed in one of the chairs, Jarvis sitting next to her. They both looked at Peggy, Peggy asleep with tubes and wires on her and suddenly she didn’t look as young as Angie thought she was. Peggy looked tired, deep lines etched under her eyes and small grey hairs starting prematurely at the roots of her hair.

            “Do you know how old Peggy is?” Angie asked.

            Jarvis shook his head. “It’s not polite to ask. Mr. Stark has it on file, but I’ve never felt inclined to look at it. She has much history I believe she does not want us to know.” He shook his head. “If I were you, I would leave Miss Carter to keep her own secrets.”

            Angie looked at Peggy sadly. “I just want her to be alright.”

            “Miss Carter is much stronger than you might think.”

            “I know, but I’m worried one day she won’t be.”

            “Miss Martinelli she will wake up.” He stood up and straightened his jacket. “I do have business of Mr. Stark’s to attend to, but the hospital promised to call when she wakes up. Everything will be alright.” He smiled and slipped out of the room, leaving Angie alone.

            The hospital room was sterile and white, everything seeming to blend in to it, Peggy’s brown hair spread out on the pillow and the red blood contrasting against it. She looked at Peggy and sighed. She had gone to _Russia_. She had only been gone for three days and now she was in a hospital bed.

            “I’m so sorry.” Angie whispered and scooted the chair closer to the bed so that she was next to it and could take Peggy’s hand in hers. She leaned her head on the bed and looked at her. “I knew you shouldn’t have gone there. I told you it was probably dangerous.”

            She could only imagine the response Peggy would have given her. Probably something sarcastic, but still sounding annoyingly British as she did it.

            “I think my audition went well. I know you probably can’t hear me and you probably have bigger things to worry about, but I felt inspired. I think I can do it. The role I auditioned for was for a girl and her name was Angela, which is weird, I know. Anyways I auditioned for it and she’s constantly getting into trouble. Men are always looking to assassinate her and one day she finds out why. Turns out she’s the daughter of a millionaire and she goes toe to toe with the people trying to assassinate her and doesn’t it sound great Peggy?” Her voice cracked. “Doesn’t it sound great?” She squeezed her eyes shut and a single tear came out as she grasped onto her hand and laughed hysterically. “It sounds so great, doesn’t it? She gets the guy in the end too. I don’t want the guy, y’know? At the end of all of this I still want to be with you Peggy. Please, _please_ be okay.”

            She stopped talking for a little bit after that, letting the silence fill the room only to be interrupted every few seconds by beeping that Angie swore was getting faster and faster. She knew it was in her head and then she heard a small laugh. It sounded like it was coming from a sandpaper voice, but it was a laugh and Angie’s head shot up and she looked at Peggy who was smiling and was _awake_ and god it was like some kind of dream.

            “Did I miss anything else while I was gone?”

            “We got kicked out of the Griffith.”

            “Why?” Peggy was smiling and laughing now, trying to keep still on the bed.

            “Ms. Fry, uh, doesn’t approve of our lifestyle choice.”

            This only made Peggy laugh harder and beeping becoming faster until a nurse ran in only to find Angie and Peggy laughing too hard to form coherent sentences. The nurse asked a few questions and then scurried out as Peggy wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

            “Lifestyle choices?” Her voice was still in that half laughing half talking form and Angie adored it. “Which ones?”

            “But where are you going to go? I have some money saved up, but I could probably go back and live with my parents.”

            “Angie I’m sure I can figure something out.”

            “Oh no Pegs, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

            “Yeah you can.” Peggy’s hands came up and cupped either side of Angie’s face and drew her closer until their noses were touching and Angie could see the lines from smiling around her eyes. “Also, after all this I still want to be with you.” She whispered and Angie pushed forward and kissed her, feeling Peggy’s arms leave her face and snake around her neck, pulling her closer.

            “I told you!” They leapt apart and Howard stood in the doorway, laughing. “I told you there was something going on here!”  
            “Howard!” Peggy tried to sit up to scold him, but winced in pain. “Howard you smug son of a…”

            “It’s good to see you too Peggy.”

            “Howard, I also have a little favor to ask you.” She smiled.

            “Anything, Pegs.”

            “We got kicked out of the Griffith.”

            “Why...Ohhhhhh.” He smiled and then laughed. “I think I can help with that.”

            “Does the nurse know you’re awake?” Jarvis asked, nervously entering the room and sitting down next to Howard on one of the chairs.

            “Yeah.” Peggy nodded.

            “So Peggy.” Howard said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at machinerisms.tumblr.com


	15. THE END **PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So I accidentally got myself into a messy situation.  
> I'm going to rewrite Season 2 as it comes out, but including Angie and Cartinelli and this will be a huge undertaking so I've decided to stop Shots on Broadway.  
> SoB was supposed to be much much longer than this and I didn't think I would do it justice by making a little bandaid ending so instead what I've done is I've given you the paraphrased version of what was supposed to happen with a few excerpts I meant to put in in this document.  
> This is the official ending to Shots on Broadway.  
> I'd like to thank everyone for all the support they've given me throughout this whole piece and this is my first "finished" multichapter. I'm excited to start on the Season 2 piece and I hope you are excited too.  
> Thank you for supporting me and this story. Please enjoy this last little ending I can hope to give you guys.  
> Xx Lara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: thank you for the support. This means so much to me.  
> Please enjoy.  
> Note: Once the season 2 piece, Cameraman will be suspended until it ends so I can focus on the season 2 piece.  
> Thanks again.

            Peggy was supposed to live through the bullet wound, obviously. She would be completely back on her feet in three weeks, much to the doctor’s protests about stitches and whatnot. Angie knows she can’t stop her, so she insists on making Peggy meals when she gets home from work and forcing her to lie down on the couch and not overexert herself.

            However, Sousa and Thompson begin to look into Leviathan with some help from Captain America’s former team and they eventually dig until the Red Room program is discovered.

            Sousa and Thompson both neglect to tell Peggy about these developments and there is a huge standoff between Peggy and Thompson in the office again. However she challenges him to a fight and he said “I wouldn’t hit and injured woman.”, but he is really saying that because if Peggy wins the fight she gets to come with the investigation.

            Peggy responds to Thompson’s words by punching him squarely in the face which leads to both of them getting into a fistfight.

            Peggy wins, but not without getting a few hits on herself as well. Howard happens to be in the office (he’s trying to contact his Russian connections) and calls Angie frantically, asking for her to come pick Peggy up and to either take her home or to the hospital before she passes out at the offices.

            (If it wasn’t already clear Peggy and Angie are living at Howard’s place.)

            Angie catches a cab to the offices and tells the driver to wait there and she rushes in to find Peggy holding an icepack to her head and grinning triumphantly with a split lip and severely swollen eye. Howard is trying to get her to let him take a look at the stitches on her chest, but she swears she’s fine.

            Meanwhile Angie _did_ get the acting job.

            Enjoy this prewritten scene from Angie coming for Peggy after the office fight:

 

            “What happened?” Angie rushed over to Peggy and inspected her eye and the blooding seeping out onto her white blouse.

            “I got into a fight.” Peggy smiled a little bit and then winced from the pain.

            “Why did you do it, Pegs?” Angie asked.

            “I wanted to come on the investigation.” She paused. “Thompson challenged me. He said that if I beat him in a fight I could come, but then he refused to fight me.”

            “This doesn’t look like he refused to fight you.” Angie said, a small frown on her face as she examined Peggy’s eye and the small gash on her forehead.

            “I punched him in the face.” Peggy winced again as she shrugged.

            “Did you win at least?”

            “Win? I kicked the shit out of him.” Peggy grinned and Howard chuckled as Angie threw her arms around Peggy.

            “Don’t ever do that again.” She whispered in her ear and then pulled away and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “But good job.”

 

            Angie takes Peggy come and lays her down on the couch in the living room near the entryway, grabbing icepacks from the freezer. She asks Peggy to take off her shirt and finds that the stitches are almost completely busted and unless she wants to go back to the hospital, Angie’s going to have to resew them herself.

 

            _“Are you kidding? I fought in the war, of course I can handles stitches.”_

 

            Angie restitches the wound carefully, with only minor protests from Peggy. She begins to kiss the area around the wound carefully, joking about making the pain go away. This ends up as smut. (The details were not worked out in my mind).

            Then it skips forward about two weeks. Peggy is completely back to normal and doctor can’t even tell that it was Angie who had sewn the wounds back together. He had no idea Peggy had gotten into a fight when she wasn’t even supposed to be back at work. However Angie is constantly at rehearsals and while Peggy is extremely happy for her, she misses Angie so she ends up cooking a candlelight dinner for Angie when she comes home really late one night. (This was also supposed to end in smut. Again, hazy details.)

            Shortly after the dinner Peggy is called into the office in the middle of the night. The SSR pinpointed the main Leviathan/Red Room location and they planned a raid and reconnaissance mission. Peggy _would_ be included this time. Peggy tells Angie this and Angie gets upset by the idea of Peggy possibly getting hurt again, but lets her go and makes her promise that she’ll come back.

            Peggy goes to Russia and comes back in one piece, however this is what happens:

            They do find Leviathan and the Red Room and are utterly horrified.

            There is a hell of a fight that ends in one miscellaneous operative dead thanks to the killer girls.

            Peggy meets Natasha Romanov and they tangle in a fight before Peggy gives young Natasha the chance to keep fighting her and lose, join them, or flee. Natasha flees.

            However in the process of finding out information they uncover Hydra. And the Winter Solider.

            Peggy recognizes Bucky immediately and demands they take him back to the States. Thompson and Sousa hesitantly agree and after taking all the Hydra agents at that specific base prisoner they bring frozen Bucky and the prisoners back to the airfield.

            Now Peggy was supposed to be back in time for Angie’s first show and she desperately wants to see her gal pal perform. However, a huge snowstorm hits and they’re unable to take off until it passes the next morning.

            Angie preforms, but doesn’t see Peggy and is immediately alarmed. After the show she looks around frantically but doesn’t find her and goes home in near tears, thinking Peggy has died or has been taken prisoner. She sits by the phone all night, hoping just in case.

            Early the next morning the door creaks open and Angie can’t even bring herself to move. She’s sure it’s someone from the SSR telling her that Peggy has died and she can’t bring herself to face the fact. Even though she’s said it out loud that she loves Peggy, she never felt like she meant it until then. Angie Martinelli feels broken.

 

            _“Angie? Are you alright?” the voice is like a dusty whisper, but she would know it anywhere._

           

            Angie throws herself into Peggy’s arms and starts shaking and sobbing and Peggy hugs her back just as hard and Peggy starts crying and whispering that she’s so sorry and Angie keeps telling her that she loves her and she’s sure that she really means it this time and it’s this tearful reunion and Peggy tells Angie about everything that happened and then asks her to perform the entire show from the beginning for her.

            Meanwhile they begin to defrost Bucky. When he wakes up, he is confused and hostile (the brainwashing had begun). They are able to break through it with extensive therapy however and soon Bucky begins telling them about United States operation.

            And then this scene happens:

 

            Angie is sitting at home on a window seat reading a book. The curtains are open and the cool fall air is drifting through the house. There isn’t a true sound in the midafternoon and she knows that she should really start cooking soon, but she can’t bring herself to. Everything just feels so right in this moment.

            Then she hears it.

            The clicking of shoes against hardwood.

            She is confused for a moment before cautiously walking towards the door, her head pounding. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t pinpoint it.

            She opened the door and suddenly the only thing louder than her mind is the gunshot that rings through her head.

           

            “No!” The scream is hoarse as Peggy sees the door open as she walks towards the door. The door is _never_ open.

            “Angie?” She calls, closing in more cautiously. “Angie?”

            Angie is sprawled on the floor in front of the doorway. Peggy can’t tell where the blood is coming from, but there’s so much of it. She rushes over, tears slipping down her face as she kneels next to Angie, picking up her hand and covering it with her other hand.

            Angie’s eyes flew open and her face paled more than it already was.

            “English.” Her voice was raspy and hoarse. She smiled and blood leaked out of the corners. “You came.”

            “Oh Angie.” Peggy’s voice is soft. “Oh no.” She’s trying to hold it together, but can’t. She’s going to lose her.

            “He said ‘heil Hydra’ before shooting me.” Angie whispered, her hand growing colder. “Does that mean anything to you?”

            “ _God_.” Peggy chokes out, clasping Angie’s hand harder. “Let me call an ambulance, let me do something.”

            “You want to do something?” Angie asked. Peggy nodded, more tears spilling down her cheeks. “Stay here. Stay with me until the end. Please?”

            Peggy nodded wordlessly. “I love you.” She choked again. “But I can’t do that.”

            “Please.” Angie’s voice is small, but there’s a phone right there.

            Peggy stands up to reach for the phone and looks back to Angie. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving. The phone drops from the receiver.

            Agent Peggy Carter sank to her knees and let out a deafening scream before picking back the phone a hysterical mess and calling an ambulance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            AHAHAHAHA THIS ISN’T THE ENDING.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            “English?” Peggy sits up in the hospital chair, looking around wildly. “Where am I?”

            Peggy stood up and wandered to the side of the bed. “You got shot, by a Hydra agent.” Peggy whispered.

            “I don’t remember it.” Angie shook her head and than winced.

            Peggy pressed a kiss to her forehead and Angie smiled. “It’s going to be okay now.”

            Angie slowly reached up from under the blankets and cupped Peggy’s face before kissing her. “You know, English?” She whispered. “I always imagined that I’d love someone, but I never thought that it would be as dangerous as this.”

            “Angie, I’m so sorry…”

            “You didn’t let me finish.” Angie clarified. “But I also never thought it was possible to love someone as much as you.”

 

            So after this Bucky, Howard, Peggy, and what’s left of the SSR makes SHIELD. SHIELD is now up and running, this is just before Tony Stark’s birth if you really want a timeline, but this is the  really paraphrased epilogue.

 

            Angie met a play producer shortly after her mishap. They became close friends and he eventually met Peggy and she told him as much as she could of her story of _their_ story. He became interested in possibly turning the story into a play or a show (“Without the homosexuality.” He added, due to the time period.)

            A few years later there was a new performance sweeping the theater and film nation.

            It was called Shots on Broadway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at machinerisms.tumblr.com and be on the lookout for the Season 2 piece In January!  
> Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to everyone!  
> Xx Lara


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